The Fallen Angel
by Krinaia
Summary: He was not Lucifer. He was merely a boy, who did not know the way.


Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's note: I wrote this in 2002, my first year in the fandom. Reading it again, I can't help but cringe. I just had to fix it. The grammar, if nothing else.

The Fallen Angel

Written by Krinaia

Draco Malfoy paced around the deserted Astronomy tower, waiting impatiently. _Where is she?_ He was feeling anxious, agitated, and very frustrated, a few of the many feelings that Malfoys did not usually experience. But he had good reason too feel those. He had told her to come and meet him at eleven. It was already eleven. It wasn't like her to be late. He stopped in front of the door, waiting, straining to hear footsteps announcing her approach. _One more hour_.

He walked to the window, his footsteps echoing eerily in the small room. There was a cool breeze in the air, gently ruffling his hair and blowing his cloak. He shivered and drew his cloak tighter around him. The sky was pitch black except for the moon and a few hidden stars.

He shivered again, but this time in anticipation and a feeling he wouldn't admit, even to himself. Maybe he would have admitted it if he knew what it was called. If he had not been a Malfoy, he knew it was dread. But Malfoys feared nothing. The wizarding world was a case of survival of the fittest, and the Malfoys intended to play that way. But Draco was an exception. He always was. He was unpredictable.

He reached the window, looking out at the stormy sea. The window was enchanted; it would never show what was truly outside. But, with the correct charm, you could see through it. The waves of the sea crashed against the solid foundation of Hogwarts Castle. Of course, the waves weren't really there. He put a hand up to lean against the frame, and his hand brushed some indention in the window. He removed his hand, and muttered, _"Lumos."_ A green light shone from his wand. He trained the beam of light at the window. _Amor Omnia Vincit _it read. Love conquers all. Whoever thought of that never met the Dark Lord.

Draco's nerves were at an all time high. He whirled around as the door creaked open. Bright light shone through the cracks and almost immediately was gone as a robed figure closed the door. The figure quietly closed the door and turned around slowly. She raised two slender, pale hands to put down the hood covering her face.

"Draco," she said, whispering the name like a prayer, and running into his arms. He welcomed her into his arms and crushed her tightly to him, as if it was the last night of the world.

"Hermione," he whispered back.

Hermione clung to Draco, holding on to him like a dying man clings to life. Desperately. Their relationship had remained secret from everyone. If anyone found out… the results would be disastrous to say the least, for both of them. Secret meetings in the Astronomy Tower or Shrieking Shack, a quick look at each other during Arithmancy and Potions, a small smile when they passed each other alone, brief touches when he would pretend to taunt her or her friends… That was all they had, and it seemed like that was all they ever could have.

When she ran to him that night, he seemed like a fallen angel, his silver hair caught by the moonlight, the same moonlight casting eerie shadows on his face. He was strikingly handsome, like an angel but like the angel Lucifer, terrifying in its beauty. More like a fallen angel. As perfect as ever, but darkly mysterious within.

The classic features seemed incapable of doing anyone harm, but the wicked eyes of the angel had betrayed the evil deeds in was indeed very capable of doing. The perfect hands seemed like the person had never done anything, much less anything cruel. But once again, the wicked eyes revealed that the angel very much was as cruel as the story of Lucifer made him to be.

But Draco was not Lucifer. He was for now, the boy who had been neglected, and then abused by his parents, a boy who had been forced to raise himself, to create his own moral standard. He was the boy who had to fight for everything he had. The boy who had had to learn how to be a man when he was five.

They broke away, not knowing how much time had passed, blissfully ignorant of the war around them. Living in the moment, because moments were all they had. Moments, such as this, would be few and far apart come graduation.

"Hermione," Draco said slowly, "I've come to a decision." The words sounded oddly formal and distance coming from the mouth that had sworn his undying love to her.

"About what?" she whispered, looking up at him from the warmth of his arms, smiling at him.

"I overheard a Death Eater talking to my father. He said that this would be the last night the boy Draco Malfoy would appear on earth," Draco said tiredly. "And he was right."

Hermione looked shocked. "Your father is going to kill you?"

Draco shook his head. "You should know me by now Hermione. Aside from this relationship, when has anything ever been beyond my control? No, I'm taking matters into my own hands."

Hermione's eyes grew wide. "I don't understand. Are you saying you'd rather kill yourself then have a Death Eater do it? Draco it's not worth it! We can protect you-"

He shook his head, and placed a finger to her lips. "That's not what I meant, Hermione. Draco Malfoy is nothing if not resourceful," he replied, alluding to an old joke between the two. "But I've had an epiphany. I've realized that none of this is worth it. I'm not going to die for my father's cause. But I do have to get rid of-"

"Of?"

"Of me. Of Draco Malfoy."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't understand."

Draco started to explain, but seemed to think better of it. He drew her into a heart-stopping kiss. All passion, all emotion, all of his love for her was expressed in that simple yet so complex gesture. He drew her so closely to him, it seemed as if they were only one person. Hermione went limp. Literally.

The clock on the wall rang 12:00, signaling the end of the day.

Draco withdrew the dagger from Hermione's back. His eyes were the wicked eyes of the angel Lucifer instead of the warm, caring eyes that were there seconds ago. Eyes that were cold, calculating, unforgiving. Incapable of any emotion except hatred. Blood started pooling around Hermione's body. He brought himself up to his full height.

"That's why," he said coldly to her prone figure. He put the dagger in his belt, without bothering to wipe it. He left the room, black cloak billowing out behind him.

Draco never did anything by halves. If he hated, he hated completely. If he loved, he loved entirely. When he made a decision, he followed it all the way. No matter how much it had pained him to do it, how his parents had raised him won in the end. That was how he thought, love could not win him over. He wanted to change.

And he had changed. He had done one of the worst things imaginable.

He had killed the woman he loved, and looked at her, and told himself he felt nothing. That he should feel nothing, if he _truly_ wanted to be on the Dark Side. He should get used to all sorts of pain.

There was no pain worse than looking at Hermione that night.

Draco Malfoy. The Draco Malfoy that had loved, and was loved by Hermione Granger was no more.

In his place, was a fallen angel.

Finis

Author's Note:

The reason for this fic was I was watching Star Wars again, and was thinking about the doomed relationship of Amidala and Anakin because he turns into Darth Vader. So I had to write a fic with Draco becoming bad, and directly/indirectly, like in Star Wars, murdering his own love.


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